Second Cousin
by bast4
Summary: AU, seventh year. Fate likes playing with Harry, taking what he knows and fliping everything upside down when he least expects. An unexpected letter from his aunt is just the beginning of the latest test for Fate's favorite toy.
1. The Letter

**Disclaimer :** bast4 doesn't own Harry or his world.

**A/N :** Alright, another new story. I have part of the second chapter written, but I'm not sure when I'll have it finished or quite where I plan on taking this. Yes, it's a somewhat-super Harry, but the canon Harry is too weak in my opinion.

Hope you enjoy.

**Second Cousin**

by bast4

**Chapter 1 - The Letter**

One breakfast in November of the Golden Trio's seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a strange owl delivered a letter to Harry Potter. He blinked in confusion at the owl, it being neither a school owl nor the owl of any of his friends or allies. Washing the letter with his magical senses, he found no curses or such and removed it from the patient avian's offered leg. Giving the bird a bit of toast and letting it drink from his water goblet, he uttered a polite "Thank-you" to the bird, who hooted and nodded in turn before lifting off for the owlry for a short rest. Finding only his name on the envelope in a familiar hand that he could not put name to, he shrugged and opened the missive. Scanning the words quickly, his mind caught ' Dudley', 'sorry', and 'help'. Green eyes darted to the signature and eyebrows raised slightly upon reading it: 'Petunia Evans'.

Frowning, Harry took a final drink from his goblet of pumpkin juice and grabbed his bag, deciding it would be better to read this without any classmates looking over his shoulder. A clenching of his gut and tingle around his shoulder blades told him this would be one of those life-changing things that would turn his world upside-down and probably make him emotional and very confused. Better to have a reaction elsewhere than the Great Hall. Murmuring something he didn't remember later to his friends' queries, Harry let his feet carry him steadily out of the large room and through the corridors as he read.

_Dear Harry_

_I don't know if I have the right to call you 'dear' or even 'Harry', but I can't bring myself to call you 'boy' or any other word we labeled you with in the past. And I know for certain that I have not earned, have never had, the right to call you 'nephew'. I'm sorry; I don't really know where to start this. And I'm sorry for writing you, for interfering in your life while you're no doubt happy at school, laughing with your friends and hating some teacher for the exam next class. But...but I don't know who else to write, who else to turn to. So I beg your forgiveness now, even if I don't deserve it, especially after all I have done. Oh, dear, more rambling, my thoughts are everywhere nowadays. It's been a horrible few days... I suppose I should do like Lily used to say, 'Just start from the beginning and let it flow'. _

_I first off want to apologize for everything. I have treated you horribly for as long as you can remember, never a kind word or merciful action. Or if I ever gave you any kind of solace or comfort, I can't remember it. You are my nephew, even though I have not the right to say such a thing. You are the only child of my dear little sister Lily - and yes, she was dear to me. I wept in secret for days and days after learning of her death, cried for hours while Vernon was at work and you and Dudley were distracted in the other room. I know I cursed her and her James, your witty father, time and time again, but I was angry, pointlessly angry. I had the crazy idea that if she had never met James, if she had never gone to Hogwarts, if she had never learned of magic, I wouldn't have had her taken from me, wouldn't have had a divide form between us. I was foolish, Harry, I truly was. I envied Lily for her magic, for the world she was part of. I wished with all my heart that I had magic, as my sister did, as you do, that I could enter your fantastic world. I know it has dangers, some far worse than the muggle world could even dream of, but how I wished, and still do wish, that I could be a part of it. Part of the reason I mistreated you was because I was jealous. Pathetic of me, really, envious of a sweet kind child who had his parents taken from him and would be thrust into a world he neither knew nor understood. But I was jealous nonetheless, and treated you harshly for it. In my own way, I helped in Vernon's attempt to crush the magic within you, my twisted and jealous heart wanting to keep from you the gift I was denied. I am so sorry, cannot __truly express how horrible I feel for my mistreatment of you, and know I can never have your forgiveness. But I apologize and seek to repent all the same, foolish girl that I am. _

_My jealousy and grief over losing Lily - I was angry that you had somehow saved yourself but not my sister. Stupid of me, and I, with any scrap of authority that I have over you as your aunt (by blood if not by your heart), forbid you from blaming yourself for your parents' deaths. You couldn't do anything to prevent it, you could do nothing to stop it. And, as cruel as Fate works, if James and sweet Lily had not died and Voldemort cursed you, the world would never have tasted peace, however temporary, from that monster. __**Do NOT blame yourself, Harry. It was not your fault.**__ I'm sorry for bringing that up, and for idiotically blaming you, forgive me. As I was saying, my jealousy and grief were not the only reasons I allowed and even aided in the abuse and neglect of you, an innocent caring child who only longed for love that I denied you. I doubt you noticed amidst your own suffering, but you were not the only one that Vernon harmed. _

_I was a fool when I feel in love with Vernon Dursley, a vain little fool of a girl. He showered me with gifts and sweet promises and kind words, being the perfect gentleman before me and my parents. Lily was the only one who saw past his clever disguise, but I was too blinded and entangled in his web of illusion to listen to my caring sister's warnings. When I finally began to consider her words, it was too late. After I wedded Vernon and we had moved to the house on Privet Drive, he began to show his true self. He snapped at me, he yelled at me, he was rude and uncaring of my happiness and welfare. He gave me access to his bank accounts, but he gave me no love. The kind man I had fallen in love with was gone. I told myself he was having problems at work, he was nervous, a thousand of excuses to reason out his actions. But all those shattered when he started beating me and forcing himself upon me. I had wanted to find a way out, but the marriage contract he had set up denied me the right to file a divorce, and he forged hateful letters to Lily and soothing lies to my parents to keep them at bay. Then, my parents were killed and all I was left with was a rift between me and Lily, the only help I had left. When I became pregnant with Dudley, Vernon stopped the beatings and let me have more free rein, not wanting to risk any harm to his heir. I longed to abort, but he took all the medicine and means of removing the parasite of a child from the house, and I was too weak to try killing myself, loved my pathetic life too much. Then, a bit of mercy was given. Vernon was out on a business trip for a week, and I managed to contact Lily with an owl of Arabella Figg's. My dear caring sister came hurrying to my side, despite my cruel behavior to her since she got her Hogwarts letter. We made secret plans of escape, that I could come live with her and James, that we would care for Dudley and you (for she was pregnant with you at this point) together. But Vernon came home from his trip early and caught her over at the house. He was in a rage, yelling at us both and striking Lily, too careful of his disgusting brat of an heir of raise a hand to me. I took a knife and threatened to slit my own throat if he didn't stop and let my sister go, started to cut even he hesitated. Lily fled and Vernon locked me up for the rest of my pregnancy. Lily still kept contact with me, her and James planning in secret, even from their friends I believe, how to help me escape. After both you and Dudley were born, the plans were put on hold and adjusted a bit more. Finally, we picked the night that they would come get me, leaving my husband and horrid life behind. It was to be Halloween of 1981. I waited and waited that night, hoping and praying, creating excuses that they were a bit late, that they were on their way right that moment, would appear and give me the signal any second now. But when I opened the door to find you and Dumbledore's letter in the morning, I knew the truth: I was trapped. _

_Vernon continued his beatings and abuse upon us both, always when you and Dudley were out or asleep or locked up. Vernon hated - hates - magic, for it is something he cannot understand and can never control. He ordered me to mistreat you alongside him and to obey his every order and wish when it came to Dudley. Whenever I tried to do anything different, he knew and would punish me for it. I slathered on so much make-up to hide the bruises and was always watching the neighbors, both hoping that they noticed something and ashamed that they would find out. I have the strong suspicion he had hidden cameras about the house to watch over my actions. When you got your letter, I both envied you for being able to have an escape, however temporary, for his abuse, and was thanking any and all gods for saving you. The threat of wizards noticing the abuse gave me the means to act more like the caring aunt I should have been all along, giving you a small bit of protection. Of course it was not enough, as the summer after your 5th year showed. After your friends freed you, he rained the abuse upon me, and Dudley came to join him in the beatings. My own son has become a monster. Then again, he's not my son, I have never loved him. Yet, foolishly, I still care for him, still wish I could change him. However, with the latest development, I know that it is too late. _

_Dudley has a son. He is seventeen, and he has a son. Apparently, he has been raping girls (and most likely other boys, he takes after his boar of a father) left and right. With one of them, his seed caught and he now has a two month old son. Two weeks ago, the mother came to the house to beg my aid. She was only fifteen and __an orphan herself, yet she had cared so much for a little life to abandon it. But she was dying of a terminal illness, and didn't want the child to go to some orphanage if the boy had another place to stay. So I took him in, hoping beyond hope that I could do better with this child, perhaps repent some small bit for the terrible upbringing I gave you and Dudley, that I could fix things by aiding my grandson. The mother died three days after placing her angel of a son in my care. I hid him for two weeks, he was as sweet and quiet as you were, never crying when he needed feeding or changing. I fear I had to hide him in the cupboard under the stairs, but Dudley and Vernon were out often enough that they didn't notice. I suppose he turned off the cameras, for Vernon didn't learn of the baby, Eric. He has brown hair, my hair, with copper highlights from his mother. Somehow, someway, he got Lily's eyes, your eyes. I wasn't sure how I was going to hide him forever in that hell of a house, but I started making tentative plans to run away with him, to take him to America or the continent come summer, contact you to tell you of another family member and see if you wanted any part in his life. But those were for summer. We didn't get that far. _

_Dudley came home unexpectedly yesterday and found me playing with the baby in your old bedroom. I don't know if he realized it was his son, but it soon didn't matter. Eric levitated a toy to himself, a little stuffed lion you had loved as a baby. Dudley was angry, no - furious. He charged forward, grabbed the baby, and threw it at the far wall. I screamed, thinking little Eric would die, or at least get hurt. My whole body tingled in terror. Then, a miracle happened, Fate smiling down on him. Eric slowed and __**floated**__ before drifting to land on your pillow. I only had a moment to stare in disbelief and wonder before Dudley started hitting me. Before I lost consciousness, I saw a glowing barrier form around the baby as its pig of a father tried to hurt it again. I woke some hours later to hear Dudley explaining what had happened to Vernon at the doorway. Vernon grabbed me, grabbed the baby by the blanket Eric was wrapped in, and dragged us both out of the house. He told me he divorced me, that I was not allowed to get within a mile of Vernon or Dudley, and that if I ever tried to take this to court for abuse, he would have me killed. He then slammed the door and left me and Eric on the doorstep. The next few hours are blurry, but I remember walking for hours, riding a taxi, and asking an old man if I could stay for the night. I woke this morning to find myself here in the Leaky Caldron with Eric sleeping beside me. I asked Tom, the Innkeeper, if I could borrow an owl and parchment and pen, and wrote you this letter. So that's my story. _

_I am not asking for your pity for the abuse, for I don't deserve it. I will ask for your forgiveness, though I will never deserve it. But I do ask for your help. I need your help. I don't know what to do. I have no money, no job, no home. I want to provide for Eric and give him a good and loving home, but I have no means of doing any of that. I don't know what to do or who to go to. You are the only one I know I can trust in the Wizarding world. I don't know what to do. I'm sorry I have to bother you like this, but I don't know what to do. I'm rambling now, so I will put an end to this letter. _

_Petunia Evans_

Harry stood a corridor in shock, his mind trying to take in what he had read, the things he had learned. Aunt Petunia had been abused by Vernon too...? She had loved Lily...? Had wished to care for him...? Dudley had a son, a magical son at that, one he had tried to harm. The Gryffindor stood there for several moments, the shocking truths of the letter spinning around in his head. Giving his head a sharp shake, Harry nodded and hurried toward the Gryffindor tower, three floors above where he had wandered to. He would skip classes today, his friends would come up with some excuse as of why. He had to see her, see Aunt Petunia, had to talk to her, help her. Despite all she had done, she was family. And if the letter was true, and it rang true in his mind, she cared for him, always had but had never been able to express it. Quickly giving the Fat Lady the password, he hurried through the Common Room and up the stairs to his dorm.

Folding the letter and placing it on his bed, he dug though his school bag until he found parchment and an Ever-Inked quill. Quickly, he penned a note of his own.

_Ron, 'Mione, and everyone else_

_I have to leave for the day to take care of something. I swear it has nothing to do with Voldemort, Death Eaters, or the war. Something big has come up, something that will change my life, and I need to figure a few things out and take care of other things. I'll be gone all day, but I promise I'll explain everything when I come back tonight. I'm not sure how late I'll be, so you may not want to stay up, we can talk tomorrow if you want. Give any excuse you can think of, I don't care. _

_Harry_

Letter written, he touched it with a forefinger and focused his magic. Light flowed and solidified to form his Crest under his signature. It wasn't the Potter, Gryffindor, or any other Family Crest, but his Personal Crest. A Phoenix held a lightning bolt in its beak, long fluid neck bowed to its chest, wings curving to form the sides of the circle. Two runes were under each wing, the long flight feathers at the wingtips reaching to meet the twin serpents facing outward under a crossed wand and sword. Each of his friends had a Personal Crest so their messages and letters could be identified as their work and not someone with a Handwriting-Copying charm. Also, they all knew the spell with which to test the Crest, ensuring that it was not a false copy. A false could then be spelled to reveal the sender, and a copy of the real Crest could be used to track the person to see if they are well or captured or some such. He would not be fooled by a note like he had in 6th year. Folding and sealing the note, he placed it on his bed with curtains open, spelled to be touched and read by only Ron or Hermione.

With a twist of his wrist, Harry's school robes had changed into the everyday robes of any young wizards, a deep blue color, a black cloak with hood draped over his shoulders. Checking that his wand (even though he didn't need it), weapons, potions, and other items were in place, he carefully folded his Aunt's letter and slipped it into his robe pocket. Pulling up the hood to hide his face in the darkness, he Shadow-jumped to the Leaky Caldron, thankful yet again that one of his animagi forms was a shadow phoenix.

He reappeared in his usual shadowed alcove near the bar and kitchen of the Leaky Caldron. After waiting a moment, Tom started to leave the kitchen drying his hands on a towel. Harry stopped him with a hand on his upper arm and a quiet "Tom". The old man, white hair bouncing around the shiny dome of his head as he started, glanced in surprise at the figure suddenly beside him. He sighed in relief as he saw sharp emerald eyes in the shadows of the hood. Waving the visitor from the people busily eating breakfast and chatting away, Tom lead him into the quiet kitchen. Once there, he laid a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm his pounding heart as he said, "Merlin, Harry. Don't scare me like that!"

Harry grinned slightly. "Sorry Tom."

"Not a problem, my boy." Calmer, Tom asked, "Now, what brings you here?"

"Is there a woman named Petunia here? She showed up last night with a baby?"

"Yes, yes, she's here." Tom nodded. Then his eyes narrowed. "Is she trouble?"

Harry shook his head. "No, she's no trouble. But she is in some. I need to speak with her in private. Can I have the spare key to her room?"

Tom picked it from the ring hanging at his belt and handed it over. "Sure, not that you need it."

Harry's mouth twitched into a bit of smile at the reminder. "Don't want to waste the time unraveling your locking spells." Turning serious again, he continued. "When has she last eaten?"

"Hmm, she had a bit of soup last night, not much though. She seemed in a daze, not quite there, ya know?"

Harry nodded. "Can you bring up some breakfast for her then? And do you have anything for a baby, about two months old?"

Tom blinked, and then nodded. "Yes, I have some baby formula and such. I'll bring it with the meal."

Harry gave a grateful smile. "Thank you, Tom." With that done, he turned and left the kitchen, turning an immediate left to climb up the stairs leading to the guest rooms. Noting the number inscribed on the key, Harry soon found his aunt's room. He paused outside of it, took a deep breath to steady himself, and put the key into the doorknob.

**--** **To Be Continued --**

Thank you for reading. Please review.


	2. Meetings

**Disclaimer :** bast4 does not own Harry, Petunia, Tom, or anything else you recognize. Eric, however, is mine.

**A/N** **:** Turns out I had the next chapter saved away. Not sure when the next will be written, but here you go anyways.

**Second Cousin**

By bast4

**Chapter 2 - Meetings**

Petunia was sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall across from her. Eric squirmed and looked at his guardian in sweet concern from his place next to her on the comforter. A noise made her jerk back to awareness. Her head snapped to the door as it unlocked and slowly opened. Seeing a figure in a long black robe, she surged to her feet and placed herself between the newcomer and the baby, ready to fight an unknown and probably powerful foe to protect her grandson. "Who are you? What do you want?" She snapped while glaring at the hooded man closing the door.

Turning back to her, the man just gazed at her for a long moment, the silence tense and wary. After examining her, hidden eyes tracked to her right, landing on the squirming baby on the bed. "So that's your grandson."

Not recognizing the somewhat familiar voice, Petunia snarled and blocked the newcomer's view of the child. "You will not have him. He's an innocent child. You will not touch him!" With her last words, she felt a strange yet pleasant tingle come over her, warm and protective, ready to strike as she was. No one, not even the Dark Lord himself, would have her grandson.

"You sound just like her..." The man murmured, sounding a bit surprised and wistful.

"Like who?" Petunia asked warily, curious despite her caution.

"Like Mum. When she was defending me from Voldemort." A hand lifted to push back the cloak's hood, revealing a mess of dark hair and startling emerald eyes. "Hello, Aunt. Did you know you are a witch?"

"Harry... I - What?" Petunia started to relax, then his words kicked in. How could she be... Remembering something Lily said, she snapped back to the defensive. "Prove you're Harry. You could be using that changing potion, Poly-something. Or an illusion. Tell me something only Harry and I would know."

A small grin flitted across the handsome face. "Smart, Aunt. Okay, three days before my fifth birthday, you slipped me a slice of chocolate pudding cake while Vernon was out working on the car. He came in suddenly, you slapped me, the plate and half the glasses shattered, Vernon beat me and locked me in the cupboard for the next two weeks. You snuck in that night and shoved some anti-bacterial ointment and bandages at me before shutting me in again." After watching her a moment, he quietly said, "I don't forgive you yet, but I do believe you. Maybe... maybe we can fix things. If you want to try..." He glanced at Eric and said, "So this is my cousin, huh. Or rather second cousin."

Petunia's chest had tightened in memory of that day, that failed attempt at giving her nephew happiness. She was such a horrible woman... But he said he was willing to fix things, that he believed her. Hell, he had come to her aid even after everything she had done. And that wistful shy look in his eyes... It made something in her clench and hope rise in her soul. Maybe things could work out. Seeing he was embarrassed, she went along with his subject change.

"Yes, this is Eric." She stepped aside so Harry could get a better look. After a moment, she playfully said, "You can come closer. He won't break if you breathe on him." Sorrow wafted through her as he jumped a bit and looked at her with some surprise at her little taunt. It would take so much work to fix things between them... But watching him tentatively touch Eric's hand and the awe on his face as the baby wrapped little fingers around his larger one, Petunia felt that all the work would be worth it. Her nephew had grown into a remarkable man, and, if he would allow, she wished to get to know him and his world. Wait, his world...

"Harry, I'm not a witch." Petunia said, looking down at her hands. "While I would love to be, I'm not. I tried a few spells with Lily's wand, but nothing ever worked. It didn't even feel warm. I've never done accidental magic. I can't be a witch."

A gentle hand on her shoulder made her look up. Earnest green eyes locked onto her brown as Harry leaned over her seated form. "Yes, you are. Accidental or wish magic isn't the only indicator. My friend Neville didn't do any magic until his uncle dropped him off a balcony and he bounced instead of going splat. Mum's wand probably wasn't compatible with you. I went through a good three dozen dead-feeling wands before I found mine. And when you were defending Eric a moment ago, you started to glow with magic. I bet your magic saved Eric back at Privet Drive too." A gentle look entered his eyes. "I can see magic, in things and people. You have magic, Aunt. You are a witch."

Petunia just stared at him in shock, her mind spinning. She couldn't be... But his words, his voice, so sure and confident. Could it be true, could she really have what she had always longed for? Could she really be...?

A knock at the door made her start. She watched with some surprise and awe as her nephew straightened, turned, and drew his wand in one fluid movement. A not-breeze came from nowhere, making her skin tingle, strength and protectiveness wrapping around the room. What was this? Was she, somehow, sensing Harry's magic? But how could she - ? Unless it was true, and she was a...

Harry relaxed next to her, his wand disappearing to somewhere as he moved forward. Opening the door, he said, "Hello, Tom. Perfect timing."

"Thank you, lad. I try." The inn-keep entered, his hands full of a large tray. Delicious aromas of kippers, eggs with a touch of pepper, and sweet glorious coffee and tea made Petunia's stomach rumble loudly. She felt her face heat with embarrassment as both men and even her grandson looked at her.

Tom chuckled. "Now, no need to blush, ma'am." Setting the tray down on a table, he gave her a stern glance. "You didn't eat much last night, so I expect you to eat all of this, you hear me, young lady?" He shook a scolding finger at her, but his eyes held warmth. So much like her father...

"Thank you." Petunia said, still blushing a bit.

"Now, no need for thanks." The old man said, pouring tea for her and her nephew. "Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine."

"Actually, Tom, she's not just a friend." Harry cut in, carrying a baby bottle full of warm formula toward the bed and a squirming Eric. "This is my aunt, Petunia Durs - "

"Evans." She cut in. "I'm Evans now. I'm quite happy to get rid of that boar's filthy name." Her lip curled in disgust of the man who had been her husband. She rose, striding toward the table and waiting meal.

"Evans? Are you Lily's sister?" Tom asked.

"You knew my sister?"

"Aye, she stopped by here time and again. Very polite and kind to everyone. Would light up a room with her laugh." He chuckled suddenly. "Need a hand with that, Harry?"

Looking back to the bed, Petunia hid a smile with her tea cup. Harry had the bottle hovering patiently next to him as he tried to figure how he was going to pick up his cousin, arms moving toward the baby, and then withdrawing them. Giving Tom a relieved glance, Harry gave a rueful lopsided grin so much like Lily's it tugged Petunia's heart. "I can out-duel the Headmaster, but I've no clue where to start with a baby." He said, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed flush and small chuckle at his own expense.

Petunia ate as she watched Tom maneuver Harry's arms and lay the baby in them, giving patient instructions of "Hold his head there" and "Nice and close to your chest, babies like to hear a person's heartbeat" as he tried not to laugh at the young man's nervous fear. Harry fumbled a bit as the bottle was added into the equation, but his natural balance quickly evened things out. The wonder and joy on his face, eyes alight as he gazed at the little life feeding in his arms, made a warm smile cross her face. Yes, it may take a while, but things would work out. She had chosen well by writing to Harry, by informing him of his baby cousin. She didn't know what life had in store for them, but it would be all right. Somehow, it would all be all right in the end.

-- end chapter --

Sorry that it's short. Hope you enjoyed.

Please review.


End file.
